


Forgive Me

by ChickenGoesMoo



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Confessional, Death, Father forgive me for I have sinned, Grief/Mourning, M/M, No Beta, Priest Wade Wilson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21956962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickenGoesMoo/pseuds/ChickenGoesMoo
Summary: Peter, weighed down by the guilt of his uncle’s death, visits a church to confess his sins. After meeting with Father Wilson, he is shocked to find quite a bit more than forgiveness in the holy man’s words and prayers. He finds a promise. One he had no clue would be kept so well.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24
Collections: Spideypool Priest Fest 2019





	Forgive Me

“Bless me Father for I have sinned…” Peter said to the ornate slatted wall once he found his voice. It was an odd, Claustrophobic feeling, being trapped in a box with a stranger just next door. He wondered how often his mother did this before she died. He wondered if this was similar to how guilty people felt in their jail cells at night, haunted by the knowledge of what they have done, with no one but the wall and their cellmate to confide in. The only way he knew there was someone else on the other side of the wall was the sound of their calming, deep breaths. 

He took a few more moments, matching his breathing with theirs before speaking again. “I’ll start by confessing that I… I really don’t know how this whole thing works?”

There was a deep, heartfelt chuckle. Despite how soft it was, it still made Peter’s cheeks heat and hands fidget in embarrassment at what usually accompanied mocking jeers from his classmates. “Long time listener, first time caller?” 

Peter flinched at the joke, obviously an adult attempting to make him feel more relaxed. The soothing tone did just the opposite for some strange reason, making his cheeks heat with shame and embarrassment at what he was preparing to admit to as a chill shimmied down his back. They sounded kind. They didn’t deserve what he was about to dump on them. 

“Yes and no?” Peter finally relented with a wince. “I mean, I don’t even know if I am allowed to do this, really. I don’t even know if I am Catholic.” There was a shifting sound on the other end of the booth, and Peter quickly hurried to amend his statement before he got thrown out. “I-I mean, my mother was a Catholic and my father was Jewish. She had me baptized, and he had me circumcised, which I am sure you really needed to know. T. M. I. God, I am so sorry.” Peter facepalmed and winced when he realized he used the lord’s name in vain. That was a thing, wasn’t it? He didn’t hear anything else from the other side of the wall anymore, so that was a good sign, wasn’t it? “Anyway, they were apparently planning on letting me decide when I was older. At least, that’s what my aunt and uncle told me. Because, like, they took me in when my parents died. They are from my father’s side. So, while I am technically catholic, I haven’t been to church since mom died? And that was so long ago that I can barely remember her face without a picture. So… this all is very new to me, and I would appreciate it if you… told me what to do, please?”

There was a gentle sigh on the other side of the wall, the only thing that made Peter certain the man hadn’t left at this point, and Peter was sure he could hear the hint of a smile in it if he strained his ears. “First, make the sign of the cross, state your name, then how long it’s been since your last confession.”

Peter quickly slashed his fingers over his chest and followed the instruction. “My name is Peter Parker. This is my first one.”

“Very good, Peter Parker,” the voice soothed, and Peter had a hard time believing a holy man could make his name sound so sinful. Was he supposed to think that in a confessional booth? Should he confess to those impure thoughts now, or after he got through everything else? Being gay was bad according to the Catholic Church, right? Maybe he could save it for next time. If there was a next time. 

In spite of all that, Peter felt himself relax a bit and lean towards the sound, happy for the distraction to his current problems. “You may call me Father Wilson, and I will be guiding you through your confession this evening. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” There was a pause, almost like a comedian waiting for a laugh, before the priest made a disappointed huff into the slats. “May God,the Father of all mercies help you make a good Confession.”

That sounded scripted. Was that scripted, or was he actually praying to God that Peter had a good confession? Peter took a deep breath, looking between the wall and his hands, not quite sure what he should say or do. “Anything I say in here… it’s between me and you, right?”

“And God,” Father Wilson agreed. “In theory.”

“You can’t tell anyone, right?”

“Nobody will know what has transpired beyond those involved, and myself. You may speak freely and I will see what I can do to help.”

Peter rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants a few times, licking his chapped lips in hopes it would make the words any easier to say. 

“I killed my uncle.”

The silence in the booth was deafening for a few moments. 

There was a brief chuckle, just as rich and humorous as the first despite what he had just confessed to. “Your first confessional and you are already confessing to a mortal sin? If only you had found us sooner.” The man shifted, and the wood of the booth shifted and creaked with him. “Is this a joke?”

“N-no! I swear!” Peter swallowed, trying to wet his increasingly dry throat. “I mean, I didn’t actually kill him, but I might as well have.”

“Well now, that doesn’t sound nearly as bad as you made it out to be at first. You have to be clear and concise about what happened, Peter. Otherwise I can’t give you an appropriate penance.” The voice was still surprisingly gentle, soothing peter’s slightly spooked state and convincing him not to change his mind and run. “Start from the beginning. Tell your dear Father Wilson all the dirty details and leave nothing out.”

Peter took a deep breath and leaned against the partition. 

“My uncle died. He was shot, and I could have prevented it.”

“How,” Father Wilson asked again. 

“He… he…” words started spilling out of Peter’s mouth faster than he could keep up with them. Things he never dared to say out loud came to light in the darkness of the tiny box, accompanied only by a few affirming hums and brief questions from Father Wilson. Easy questions, about where the robbery took place, what his Uncle’s name was, the name of the officer in charge of his case, and if he knew the names of the possible culprits so he could pray for their souls, Father Wilson didn’t stop him. He just barely managed to avoid telling the Priest about the spider bite that had happened just a few weeks before the incident that caused his uncle’s death. He wasn’t sure what the Catholic Church’s view on mutates was, and quite honestly, he wasn’t eager to find out. 

When Peter finally reached the end of the story and Father Wilson had no other questions to ask, they sat for a moment in a comfortable, clarifying silence. Not only was it a literal silence, but it was the first time since his Uncle’s death that his mind was quiet as well. 

“Peter, you have _not_ sinned, but it is rather unfortunate that others have sinned against you and caused you and your family such pain.” Those words took a weight off Peter’s shoulders that he didn’t know was there. “Even if you had not felt the spite which lead you to ignore the robbery you mentioned, you still may not have interfered, nor should you have. The man had a gun. If your uncle died from it, I am certain it could have just as easily been you in a direct confrontation.”

Peter took a deep breath, pressing the palm of his hand into the wall as he let the words he had been trying to convince himself of sink in. “Thank you, Father.”

“Normally, at this part, I would tell you a number of Hail Marys you must pray as penance, however, there is someone else out there that needs them much more than you. Pray they find peace and absolution with the Lord before they die from their wicked ways,” Father Wilson said, voice a seductive whisper. “After all, we both know where sinners go when they die, don’t we.”

The hard edge made Peter wince almost as much as what the voice promised, but he nodded along anyway. He would be lying if he didn’t say he secretly hoped the men who did this to him and his aunt would suffer. It felt nice to know that his prayers on that matter would not go unanswered. They would pay. Father Wilson promised him that, which was more than the police would do. “Yes, Father Wilson.”

“Pray with me.” Peter nodded at Father Wilson’s words, and closed his eyes. 

“God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of His son, has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you peace. I absolve you from your believed sins, and promise you that they will not go unpunished. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” 

Peter sat in the booth, eyes still closed until the voice of the priest finally spoke again. “This is where you say Amen.”

“Amen?” 

There was another chuckle. “You are a pure soul, Peter. Those who have sinned against you will pay for the damages that they have caused, but that burden is no longer yours to bear. I want you to promise me that you will leave this matter in God’s swift hands.” 

Peter was quick to nod, already standing and making to leave, hoping that he could leave all of the problems in the booth as he went. “I promise.” 

“May God bless you.” 

“And… um… you too?” 

Father Wilson let out one final chuckle. “Don’t be a stranger, Peter.” 

Peter walked out of the church feeling much lighter than he had since the news of his uncle’s death. Maybe going to a new church wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all?


End file.
